“Do you fancy an early morning ride?”
He raises one eyebrow at me and gives me a sexy smirk.
“Not that sort of ride,” I chuckle, though I’ll never say no. “With the horses, like we used to, before anyone else is up.” I’ve always been surrounded by people—house staff, grooms, estate workers. Sometimes I just wanted to be alone, to do things for myself. So in the summer, if Charley stayed over, we’d wake up at dawn and sneak out of the house, catch the horses and take them out for a ride.
He thinks about it for a full second, then nods and gives me a cheeky grin. He’s up for the adventure. Within a few minutes we’re dressed and driving over to the barn. We select a halter each and walk down to the paddocks, our footprints leaving marks on the dewy grass. The quietly grazing horses are grey shadows, silhouetted against a pale yellow sky that stretches over the horizon, chasing away the night. This is timeless, and I’m transported back to those mornings when the summer would stretch forever and the future would be full of possibilities. I look over at Charley and he grins at me. I know he feels the same. The horses come to our quiet calling, curious about their early morning visitors. We halter them and lead them back to the stables to brush them and tack them up, working silently, as if talking would break the veil of magic and bring the real and present world back to us.
Once mounted, I lead the way towards the woods. Only once we’re within the canopy of trees, as if it’s some protection that will keep us in this realm for longer, do I speak.
“I’d forgotten how much fun that was,” I say, and Charley laughs softly.
“I was still holding my breath half the time thinking someone might turn up and tell us off.” That had also happened on more than one occasion.
“Remember that time Gibbins caught us as we were fetching the saddles and locked us in the tackroom?” Gibbins was one of the grooms, long since retired, but he used to scare me.
“Not realising I was small enough to fit through the window and let us out as soon as he’d gone away.” Charley laughs even louder now and I join in. We’d got into similar scrapes through the years. Charley was my ride or die. He still is.
We come to the fork in the path and I stop Merlin. Charley brings Arrow to a halt beside me.
“This is the first place I ever saw you.”
Charley’s face maps a range of expressions—amazement, tenderness, longing, and love.
“I didn’t know if you remembered.” His voice breaks slightly.
“How could I forget the day I met you?” I ask. We might have been from very different backgrounds, but essentially we were the same. Two boys who were lost and looking for something. “I found the other half of my soul that day.”
He leans across his saddle and touches his lips to mine. The kiss is soft and makes my stomach flip. I go to deepen it, but the horses shift impatiently, pulling us apart, and I laugh. I have an idea.
“How about a race?” I say and see Charley’s eyes light up.
“To the edge of the wood?”
“Of course.” That he remembers that first time as well fills me with so much love.
“What do I get if I win?” He grins but doesn’t wait for an answer, already spurring Arrow into a gallop.
“Everything, you get everything,” I say, letting the wind take my words as I urge Merlin after him.
This isn’t two boys, one of them on a bike. We’re grown men and our horses are larger. But it doesn’t mean we don’t take it as seriously. I lean further forward, encouraging Merlin to go faster, dodging low branches and jumping over tree roots. Charleywhoopsa few times and we’re neck and neck for a goodpart of the race. But maybe because Arrow is a few years younger than Merlin, or perhaps Charley is better than me, he edges forward, and by the time we reach the treeline, which feels like a much shorter distance as an adult, he’s half a length ahead. We pull up. The horses are breathing heavily and we’re also panting. Charley looks at me, his face flushed, making his freckles stand out more. He brings Arrow alongside Merlin.
“I claim my prize,” he laughs triumphantly and leans over for a kiss. The horses are content to stand still after their exertion, and I cup the back of his head with my hand and kiss him hard as our tongues swirl together.
We slowly break it off and I release my hold, and he slides back to sit squarely in his saddle. He looks around at the view of Monkswood, the parkland and farms beyond.
“I remember the first time I saw this view. I couldn’t believe you owned it all.”
“I didn’t,” I say, which was true, as I was an eleven-year-old kid then. Charley gives me the look I deserve.
“Your family, then. I had my bike then, and that was all I owned. It seemed unbelievable that someone could have so much.”
I take a deep breath, as this is the moment I’ve been building up to.
“I don’t own it now,” I say simply, and Charley’s head snaps round to me. “We finalised the paperwork on the trust. So no, technically I don’t own it anymore. I still live there, it’s my home, and I’m one of the trustees, as is my mother and Immy. But it ensures the estate can survive, the house can be preserved, and no one has to suffer the crippling inheritance tax. Not that I’m planning on that being an issue for a very long time,” I addquickly. “But in a way it’s very freeing to do this.” I want Charley to understand about the house and estate, as I know he might not say yes to my next question otherwise. I did it for him, for me, and for the future of the estate.
“Can you get kicked out of your own house? Become homeless?” He grins with typical Charley playfulness. I wouldn’t be homeless. The cottages that Charley, Andrés, and Kirsty live in are part of the equestrian centre, and that belongs to me. But instead of saying that I answer in the same manner.
“Yes, if I misbehave and the other trustees vote on it.”
